


He's All That

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-08
Updated: 2006-01-08
Packaged: 2018-10-27 17:39:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Harry and Draco make a bet to bed the first person who walks into the Great Hall.





	He's All That

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Written for Lizabethy/Angelfeather for the [Percy Ficathon](http://www.percyfest.muse-wanted.com/). She requested Percy/Hermione, Percy/Padma, Percy/Harry, and/or Percy/Draco, humor, smut, and redeemed or otherwise-on-the-side-of-good Percy. Other than the girls, I worked in all of her requests.  


* * *

It started with an off-hand comment, as these things always do. Ron and Harry passed by the Slytherin table on their way to dinner, joking and jovial. It'd been the last Quidditch match of the year, -- of their career at Hogwarts, in fact -- Gryffindor _versus_ Slytherin and Slytherin had been well and truly trounced, following a pattern that had been established much of this year. With the 250-70 win, Gryffindor secured the Quidditch Cup, the House Cup for the third year running, and continued the atmosphere of glee that had moved electrically throughout the Tower since Harry had defeated Voldemort two months before. 

"Weasley is our king!" crowed Harry. The grin stretched so far, his face threatened to crack. 

Ron elbowed Harry playfully, shaking his head. "Sorry, Captain. I think that dive for the Snitch was what did it. I could see it all from the goals; you and Malfoy looked like blurs during those last few moments." 

Harry turned then, so he could face the Slytherins, specifically Draco, whose pale cheeks had already turned an interesting shade of pink. During the months of the war, it turned out that very few of the Slytherins were active supporters of Voldemort. None had been found wearing the Dark Mark, at any rate, and a few -- though Dumbledore had never told Harry who -- passed on sensitive information they'd gleaned by spying on their parents. Harry privately thought Draco and his cronies had just been waiting until school was over to follow in their fathers' footsteps; he still didn't like Draco and certainly didn't trust him. Addressing Draco directly, Harry drawled, "Ah, but Malfoy was the slower blur." 

Ron nodded. "Always the loser." 

Apparently unable to hold back, Draco stood, knocking over his chair and turned to face the pair. "And you'd know all about _losing_ , wouldn't you, _Weasley_? For all your precious Gryffindor wins, it's still Potter that takes the glory." 

Unwilling to rise to the bait, something which had been happening far more often since he'd led several successful campaigns in the war, Ron simply shrugged. Harry, on the other hand, balled his fists and stood toe-to-toe with Draco, his face now as red as the Slytherin's. "You wouldn't know a winner if he jumped up and bit you on the arse." 

Draco chuckled, low and threatening. "Is that an offer, Potter? Sorry, but I'm not interested." 

Harry coloured further, the blush reaching the tips of his ears, and he took a step back, realising their close proximity. "No!" Harry spat, enraged. "I'm just saying you'd never be able to win at anything. Ever. No matter what it is. Isn't it about time you accepted that you're the loser?" 

Ron rolled his eyes, having witnessed this scene countless other times. He was in too good a mood to get involved. "See you later, Harry," he mumbled, then rushed over to the Gryffindor table successfully separating himself from the brewing confrontation. 

Briefly glancing after Ron's retreating form, Draco lowered his voice even further, "Bet I get laid more than you do." 

"Wh-what?" Harry spluttered. If what Draco said had even the smallest grain of truth, then Draco was right. With the war and schoolwork and Quidditch, Harry hadn't had the time for relationships, let alone sex. There were people at this school willing to...? 

"Sex. You know. Insert tab A into slot B. Thrust. Repeat. Repeat repeat repeat. And, judging by that reaction, I'm absolutely right." Draco grinned triumphantly as Harry's face fell. "The Saviour's a virgin? How very pristine, but yet, oddly fitting. I suppose you're waiting for the right person? A white wedding followed by a dozen fat babies? Meanwhile, I know what it's like to press up against a naked, sweaty form, what it's like to watch someone's face when they come, where all the secret hiding places in the castle are." Most of the Slytherins were now straining to hear the conversation, a few with knowing smirks plastered on their faces. 

Harry swallowed hard, a trickle of perspiration making a path down his temple. He refused to think about Draco naked. Or sweaty. Or his face when he -- 

Shaking his head, Harry tried regaining a bit of composure. "You don't know anything, Malfoy." 

"Oh, but I think I do." Draco had a knowing expression on his face. "Something at which I'm better at than the great Potter. Given the choice between that and Quidditch, I'll take the sex." 

Harry was feeling unreasonably angry. Draco was _right_ , after all, but the idea of him beating Harry at anything bothered him so much he didn't have words for it. Instead, he said the first thing that came to mind. "Wanna bet?" Harry blurted. 

"Bet?" Draco looked intrigued. "That I'm better than you at sex? I'd love to, Potter, but I don't know how that sort of thing could be judged. Unless you wouldn't object to a panel in front of the Great Hall, of course." 

Harry, who hadn't known it was possible to blush any harder, did so. "No!" he practically screamed, alarm in his voice. "I bet I can convince anyone to... Uh. You know." 

"No, I don't," said Draco, sounding amused. "Convince anyone to what?" 

"F-fuck me," Harry stammered. "Before you could. Anyone." 

Draco's eyes widened and he looked absolutely delighted. "You want to bet that I could fuck someone before you could?" 

"Yes. I mean, no! I know I'd beat you at this, just like anything else." 

"You're on." Draco offered his hand and Harry took it. They shook hands. "And how do we pick our victim?" There was an excited gleam in Draco's eyes that scared Harry, though he wasn't willing to admit it. 

Harry thought for a moment. "First person to come into the Great Hall. I bet a hundred Galleons that I'd have sex with them before you do." 

"Fine." Draco smirked and turned his attention toward the gigantic doors of the dining hall, waiting. Harry did the same, less confidant than Draco, thinking his timing was rather lousy. Most of the students were already eating and it would probably be awhile before someone came -- 

Just then, Percy Weasley walked through the doors, looking keyed up and flushed, dressed head-to-toe in Gryffindor colours. Ever since Percy had repaired his rift with his family, he'd become an enthusiastic supporter of everything his family did and had attended each one of Ron and Ginny's Quidditch matches. 

Upon seeing the focus of their bet, Harry gasped "But he's a _boy_ ", just as Draco groaned, "But he's a _Weasley_." 

Percy spotted Harry then, waving a little red-and-gold pom pon. "Good show, good show, Harry! Fantastic win! Have you seen Ron or Ginny?" 

Feeling a little faint, Harry gestured vaguely in their direction. Percy nodded and bustled away again, still buzzing with excitement. 

"There's our winner," Draco said, watching Percy go with his head cocked to one side. "Well. Red hair or not, he's certainly easy on the eyes." 

"But he's...he's a _he_!" Harry said, shocked that Draco was still so calm. 

"And that's a problem how? I never said that I bedded _women_." Draco gestured at Percy. "Tell me you can look at that arse and not come up with a hundred-and-one ways to debauch it." 

Well, Harry certainly had never given Percy's behind much thought before. Except for that one night with his curtains pulled tight and his hand wrapped -- 

"No! I can't do that. Of course not." 

Draco shrugged. "Then I guess I'll have no problem winning. Can't wait until the whole school knows about your...performance problems." 

Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and straightening his spine, Harry grew indignant. "I have no _performance problems_ , Malfoy. Percy Weasley will be calling my name eight ways 'til Sunday by the time I'm through with him." 

Slowly, Draco looked Harry up and down and Harry hoped-against-hope that Draco wasn't picturing that very scenario right then. Pervert. "This will be very, very interesting, Potter. Pleasure doing business with you." Draco sat at the table again and resumed eating, as though nothing had happened. Harry stood stupidly for a moment, mouth gaping, glaring at the back of Draco's head, before he turned on his heel and joined Ron and Hermione for dinner. 

Watching Percy animatedly recount plays to Ginny, Harry didn't feel very hungry at all. 

***

A month later, Harry found himself filled with a sense of melancholy, but also one of relief. He'd somehow got Draco to agree to hold off the bet until after the Leaving Feast, citing the great importance of the N.E.W.T.s and sounding rather like Hermione. It was to cover up his own nervousness over the prospect of seducing Percy, but Draco readily agreed, either to cover up his own trepidation or actually worried about his academic prowess. Catching a glance at the familiar blond head a way down the platform, Harry watched for a moment as Draco laughed and playfully jostled Goyle and concluded it probably had been the latter. 

Draco caught Harry's eye right then and nodded to him. They'd be taking the Hogwarts Express back to London for the last time and then the bet would be on. Harry realised he was looking forward to beating Draco one last time, though he wasn't quite sure how he was going to pull it off. 

The race was on. 

***

Once on the train, Harry had to explain what was going on to Ron so he could get Percy's address. It had made part of the trip home a bit uncomfortable, at any rate. 

"I just want to beat Malfoy, Ron! You understand that, don't you?" Harry crossed his arms and rolled his eyes skyward. 

Ron wrinkled his nose and said, "But...Percy! It's _Percy_. Stick-up-his-arse-Percy!" Ron turned a sickly shade of green then, possibly contemplating exactly that. "Besides, since when do you go for blokes? I expected you to turn into a lady-killer, what with your newly renewed hero status." 

Shrugging, Harry replied, "I don't know. I like women, I think, but I've never had much of a chance to give either much of a chance. Your brother...well, I've been thinking about it a lot since Malfoy and I made our bet and, well, he's hot. Like all the Weasleys." Harry playfully nudged Ron, who grinned. 

"You're damned right!" cried Ginny, who was playing cards with Neville on the other side of the car, overhearing the tail end of Ron and Harry's conversation. 

Harry grinned. "See? Even your sister agrees. And Percy could probably use a good rogering. I know I could," said Harry candidly. The green shade of Ron's skin only deepened and Harry couldn't help but laugh. 

***

Harry Apparated to the trendy neighbourhood in London, indicated by Ron's scrawl on the piece of paper clutched in his sweaty hand. He squinted up at the building and charged up the stairs, freezing when he stood in the corridor staring at the '2E' etched on Percy's door. He should go. Really, he could just let Malfoy win the bet and get the heck out of here. A hundred Galleons was a lot, of course, but Harry had Auror training starting up in two weeks and that would replenish his vault in enough time that he was sure he wouldn't notice the difference. He'd just turned to leave, when a vision of Draco's pale, pointed face laughing at him floated to his mind's surface. 

Then, another vision, this time of Percy walking away from Harry and Draco a month earlier. Harry recalled a Muggle saying he'd once heard on the telly: _Oh, how I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave._

His mind made up, Harry knocked several times on the door to Percy's flat, rocking nervously on the balls of his feet. There was a loud crash, then Harry recognised Percy's voice mumbling within. A moment later, the door was flung open, and there Percy stood, clad only in red-and-gold striped pyjama bottoms and an open dressing gown, his face scruffy, and a bit out of breath. His glasses were askew and his hair nearly as messy as Harry's normally was. 

"Yes, what is it?" Percy shouted as he peeked into the hallway. He seemed surprised to see Harry standing there, but Harry couldn't really blame him for that. It wasn't like he'd dropped in on Percy ever before. "Oh! Harry. What...what are you doing here?" 

"Hi, Perce," Harry said taking a step forward so he could enter the apartment. Percy didn't move. "Did...did I wake you up?" It was only eight o'clock, but Percy certainly looked as though he'd been dressed for bed. Harry stared at the expanse of pale, freckled skin of Percy's bare chest and blinked several times. Unconsciously, Harry licked his lips. 

"What?" Percy glanced down, following Harry's gaze, and pulled the dressing gown around himself. He didn't fasten it, though, which made Harry pretty happy when the thing flopped open again a moment later. "Oh. Oh, no. Just lounging around the house! You know how it is; unwinding after a long day. I always dress like this. Really, it's perfectly normal! Don't judge me!" Percy made a move to slam the door shut in Harry's face again, but Harry pressed forward as Percy stumbled back, pushing them back into Percy's front room. 

"I wasn't judging you. Nice place," Harry said distractedly, glancing around. And it was. Percy's flat was tastefully decorated, furniture new and sparsely arranged. It was also neat as a pin, something which didn't surprise Harry in the least. "Glad I didn't interrupt anything important." 

Percy cleared his throat nervously, his eyes shifting from side-to-side. Harry had no idea why Percy was so on edge, but he decided to ignore it. "Actually, this isn't a very good time, Harry." 

"Oh, I'll just cut to the chase, then." Harry was improvising now, his heart settled firmly in his throat. Might as well put the offer out on the table. He took a step forward, effectively trapping Percy between Harry and the sofa. "I...I'm, erm, really attracted to you, Percy." He tilted his head up, so he could get a better look at Percy's blue eyes through his glasses, and knew he was speaking the truth. "Ever since I saw you at that last Quidditch match, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind." 

Having stopped fidgeting, Percy stared unblinkingly at Harry, his jaw slightly open. His jaw was incredibly well-defined, Harry observed off-handedly. "Wha-what?" Percy stammered. 

Encouraged, Harry took another tiny step forward, pressing their bodies flush against one another. Percy gulped, while Harry licked his lips again, feeling the heat of Percy's chest through his own T-shirt. "I suppose I'm saying I'm very, very attracted to you, Percy, and I'd very, very much like to do something about it." With that, Harry stretched upward, pressing his lips to Percy's. Because Percy still had that dumbfounded expression on his face, Harry took the opportunity to dart his tongue inside briefly, gauging Percy's reaction. The whimper that escaped Percy's lips was encouraging. 

"Is this okay?" Harry murmured against Percy's mouth, running his tongue over Percy's lower lip. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but Harry definitely liked Percy's reactions. 

Pulling away, Percy understandably looked a bit shocked. "Harry," he said a bit breathlessly, "are you sure you want to do this?" 

"Very sure," he replied, rocking a bit so that his rapidly hardening cock might get some attention. This time, it was Harry who had to bite back a moan. "You look really..." Harry struggled for the words. "...good like this, Perce." He worked his way under Percy's dressing gown, his breathing quickening as he felt the warm skin underneath his fingertips. 

Harry kissed Percy again, this time both parties more sure of themselves. Percy sucked on Harry's tongue gently and applied the perfect pressure to Harry's lips, eliciting one low moan after another. It made sense to Harry that Percy would be the perfect kisser, since he strove for perfection in all that he did, and Harry felt he could do this all night. 

But. The bet wasn't a simple kiss. He had to get Percy into bed and, hopefully, more of this would follow. Without warning, Harry dropped to his knees and placed a hand on each of Percy's hips. "May I?" he asked, gesturing at Percy's groin, his erection now tenting the fabric of his drawers. At Percy's enthusiastic nod, Harry began working the pyjamas down to Percy's ankles, then leaned back for a moment to drink in the sight before him. 

Harry had never been this close to anyone's...parts, but if they were usually anything like Percy's, he instantly decided he wouldn't mind finding himself in this position again. Percy's cock was a bit longer than Harry thought his own was, though not as thick, and surrounded by red hair, about two shades darker than the hair on his head. His skin was pale and freckled, except on his upper thighs, where the sun probably never reached. The sight was more of a turn-on than Harry would have expected, finding his own erection straining against the inside of his pants. Harry realised he wanted nothing more than to take Percy into his mouth, to make him feel _good_ , perhaps as an attempt to mitigate the guilt of the bet, but also because Harry discovered he was really quite attracted to Percy. 

He leaned forward then, listening to Percy's breath quicken, and experimentally stuck his tongue out, licking Percy from base to tip. Percy let out a low moan and a hand came up, tangling in Harry's hair, pushing him slightly forward. Harry's body hummed pleasantly and he wrapped his hand around the bottom of Percy's cock, licking in gentle patterns, unsure of what he was doing. He dipped his tongue into the small pool of clear fluid that had collected at the head; the taste was interesting and he repeated the process upon hearing Percy groan. "Is this all right?" he asked tentatively, peeking up at Percy. 

"More," Percy gasped. "I want more of your mouth, Harry. Please." 

Harry wasn't sure if Percy was being polite or begging, but didn't really care. Instead, he tried to take as much as he could, sucking lightly at first, then harder, as Percy's moans turned into incoherent babbles of "Harry" and "Oh!" and, finally, " _Fuck_." He tried keeping his teeth out of the way, remembering that Ron had once complained about that after a particularly bad date with Lavender. 

Percy's cries grew more and more incoherent as Harry moved faster and faster, ignoring the slight ache in his jaw. Percy was close, Harry could feel it. He'd soon be coming in Harry's mouth, all because of what Harry was doing. His own prick gave an interested twitch, when the thought of moving things to the bedroom and maybe fucking that perfect arse in one of the hundred-and-one ways Malfoy had ment -- 

"Oh my God!" cried a voice. Harry jumped because that cry had _not_ come from Percy. 

"Fuck!" yelled Harry as he pulled away and scrambled to his feet. "What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" He looked wildly from Percy to Draco than back at Percy again. Draco was clad in nothing but a sheet. 

"Remember when I told you this wasn't a good time?" said Percy sheepishly. 

"My God, are all of you Gryffindors this insatiable?" Draco demanded, facing Percy with clutching the sheet to his hip. He pointedly ignored Harry's presence. "We were almost up to the good part, too! I mean, there was a knock at the door, you felt compelled to answer it for reasons I can't quite figure out --" 

"It could have been my mother," Percy said weakly. 

Draco ploughed on as though Percy had never spoken. "So, I heard you talking and I figured you were just trying to turn whoever it was back out onto the street, so I waited in your bedroom. Then, things got quiet and you never came back, so I came looking for you and this is what I find? Potter sucking your cock in the middle of your living room!" 

"Well," said Percy, "he is rather attractive and somewhat insistent when he'd like to --" 

It was Harry's turn to interrupt. "You had a _Malfoy_ in your bedroom, but you didn't think that was an important bit of information?" 

Turning toward Harry, Percy said, "I tried to explain, but --" 

Draco shouted, "I'm naked!" just as Harry shouted, "He's naked!" 

Percy's glasses had slipped down to the tip of his sweat-slicked nose. He cleared his throat and nervously rubbed the back of his head, stumbling a bit because his brightly coloured pyjama bottoms were still tangled around his ankles. "I didn't have time to contemplate the windfall. It's been a rather long time, since I'd last..." Percy trailed off, but neither Harry nor Draco heard him. 

Harry glanced over at Draco, who -- to Harry's amazement -- rather than looking cross, now had a slow smile creeping across his face. 

"What?" challenged Harry, still angry. 

"I won! I got there first." 

"Won?" Percy interrupted. No one paid him any mind. 

"Yes, but you didn't finish properly," Harry insisted. "I had his trousers 'round his ankles and his cock in my mouth! You owe me, Malfoy." 

"Owe?" A twinge of annoyance invaded Percy's tone. He sniffed in distaste and, in as dignified a manner of possible, hiked his pyjamas back up, clutching the front with one hand. 

"Of _course_ , a Gryffindor would renege on a bet!" Draco seethed. "And they say Slytherins are the sneaky, underhanded ones." 

"You are!" Harry shouted in an annoyed tone, throwing his arms up in the air. 

"Yes, we are, aren't we?" Draco looked rather proud of himself. "Still, I won _this_ fair and square and I fully intend on collecting." 

Percy loudly cleared his throat, glaring daggers at Harry and Draco. The other two looked at him as though just remembering he was still in the room. "What, pray tell, are you talking about?" 

"Oh," Harry said guiltily. "We, uh...erm, we kind of..." He shrugged and gave a half-smile. 

"For pity's sake, Potter. We made a bet seeing which one of us could get you into bed first. I won. We were in a bed." 

Harry went from shamefaced to livid in three seconds flat. "But you didn't _do_ anything with him!" 

"You made a bet about me?" Percy's spine was very straight, his nose in the air. "To see who could _sleep_ with me first?" 

"Yeah, sorry about that, Perce. It'd be really nice if you didn't tell your mum and I wasn't lying when I said I was attracted to you. What we did over there was brill--" 

Voice low and deadly, Percy stared at Harry in such a way that his stomach immediately turned to ice. "Do you have any idea how illegal that is?" 

"Excuse me?" asked Draco, alarmed and indignant. There was no longer any trace of a smirk on his face. 

"Betting for sexual gain is a type of prostitution. Very illegal, very punishable with time in Azkaban. I could turn you both in; it's my duty as a Ministry employee, in fact." 

"You wouldn't do that, would you?" Harry's erection had long since disappeared, replaced by an increased awareness of his bladder. He imagined the terror in Draco's face was mirrored in his own. "I mean, I'm your brother's best friend...you've known me since I was eleven! Besides, neither of us knew that was against the law." He looked to Draco for support; Draco bobbed his head up and down. 

For someone still red-faced and clutching the waistband of his ridiculous striped pyjamas, Percy could look very intimidating. "Ignorance of the law does not excuse breaking it. A crime is still a crime, no matter what one's level of knowledge might be." Harry thought Percy sounded like he was quoting from a textbook. After a moment's consideration, Harry decided he probably was. 

"What do you want?" Draco said suddenly, his voice cracking a little. "Money? You don't want to turn us in; I can tell. So tell us what you want." 

Percy took a step toward Harry and shoved him against Draco, knocking their heads together. Draco scowled as Harry rubbed his head. "Call off the bet." 

"Done," they both said instantly. 

"Good. Now, you both should get into the bedroom, so I can finish what we started." Harry and Draco looked up, too startled to reply or move. With some satisfaction, Harry noted Draco's resemblance to a guppy with his jaw dropped like that. "Go! And lose the clothes, Potter," Percy ordered, haughtily pointing in the direction of his bedroom. Both boys jumped in the air, then marched obediently into the bedroom, Harry shedding his clothing and Draco abandoning the sheet as they went. 

Percy shrugged off his dressing gown and let his bottoms drop again, stepping out of them on his way to his room. _Ignorance of the law also means I get to make it up,_ Percy thought, smirking and doing a gleeful little winner dance as he shut the door behind him. 


End file.
